Bid Now...Or Best Offer

2004-08-09
8:00 p.m.

The past weekend was tax free weekend in our state. You can buy all kinds of school supplies, clothes, shoes, computers, etc. tax free, which is pretty nice. It would be nicer if everyone wasn't out shopping when I need to shop, though. I need to ask the state for my own personal tax free weekend.

Yesterday afternoon I took both boys to the shoe store for school shoes for Oldest Son. And possibly a pair of tennis shoes for Youngest Son as well, if we found something.

By the time we left, I had that queasy feeling you have from too much cotton candy and too many rides after being at the state fair all day. The only ride in there, though, was the one Youngest Son took me on from aisle to aisle, darting in front of people to snatch yet another high heel from the rack.

Yes, Youngest Son still has a special spot in his heart for women's shoes. Or girl's shoes. Anything but 3-year-old boy shoes. The higher the heel, the more glittery, prettier, shinier the shoe, the better.

You know who this bothers? (I mean besides me, who has to follow behind putting up all kinds of shoes) The men shopping in the store. I saw a lot of looks of disgust yesterday. They'd look at YS, prancing in his latest pair of high heels, then immediately look at my face for a clue as to why I was letting him do this.

And, no, we didn't leave with any shoes for YS, because after all those women's shoes, I knew he wasn't going to be happy with anything but a pair of heels or fluffy slippers.

Oldest Son got two pairs of shoes, one of which is a pair of red Converse high tops that he fell in love with. I didn't know Converse shoes were popular again, but apparently they are here.

When we got home, OS got out and tried the Converses on his skateboard, his scooter, his bike, and his pogo stick, and declared them the absolute best pair of shoes he's ever had. And he slept in them last night.

Today was the first day of school for OS, and he was so damn cute. I could have just taken a bite out of him on his way to third grade. He's the good kid right now. Keep reading, and you'll see why.

Last night we had *LLL and T over for hamburgers, homemade salsa and chips, and rum slush. I've been dying to make a rum slush, but it makes a lot, so I usually only make it for a holiday, like 4th of July or Labor Day. Since we'll be gone over Labor Day, I finally decided to make a batch yesterday for no good reason. Good thing I did, and I consumed more than my fair share.

Hubby decided we should all watch a movie after we stuffed ourselves, and enticed Youngest Son to watch Shrek in our bedroom so the adults could lounge around the living room. Sounds like a fine idea, doesn't it? Wasn't.

I checked on YS roughly every ten or fifteen minutes, carrying my big behind up those stairs. After my third check, Youngest Son came downstairs on his own to show me what he did! He was very pleased with himself! He smelled tasty!

When he saw the look of horror on my face he hightailed it back upstairs, but I caught up with him. He had gotten a brand new bottle of shampoo I'd left on our bathroom counter and used it as lotion on himself. And the carpet and our bed and my dresser drawers. There was only about a third of the bottle left when he decided to come downstairs to show off. Oh.my.God, the mess.

While I was trying to clean it up, he was telling me "lotion like Mom," and rubbing it into his arms and legs. That's when it dawned on me he had watched me do that very same thing earlier that morning. God forbid this child ever see me shave my legs.

Do I need to tell you who drank the last of the rum slush last night?

This morning he was heartbroken upon discovering Oldest Son was gone when he came downstairs. I told him Oldest Son had to go to big school on a big bus, like he would one day.

I am my own worst enemy. When we got to his day care, he flew across the parking lot to the two little buses they have for field trips. He intended to get on one and go to school with his brother, but I stopped him and carried him inside, kicking and screaming, instead.

Would you understand if I told you I'm going to be making deals with the devil to keep myself from selling this child on Ebay before he turns four? (A mere 9 1/2 months away) Some days, like yesterday, I'd even put a Buy It Now price on him.

I can't think of one thing in his life right now that is not an issue of some kind. He decides he wants waffles for breakfast, till I get them ready. Then he wants grits. He wants to dress himself, but doesn't have the coordination to complete it sometimes, and guess whose fault that is.

He wants to go to day care, till I start walking toward the door to leave, then no no no no no, he wants to come with me. He is pleased as punch to see me when I come back to the day care to pick him up, till I actually make him leave. And no no no no no, he doesn't want to leave!

He tries to tell me how to drive, which way to turn (I do wish I was kidding), and if I apply the brakes just a little too quickly he announces, "Wow, that was close."

I think he's been around his father too much when I start hearing that stuff.

He fights going upstairs to take a bath, but loves to play in the tub once we get there. He fights me on brushing his teeth, but loves to lick the toothbrush when I finally give it to him. I've learned the hard way to let him put the water in the cup to rinse. He loves to pick his pajamas, till I insist that we actually put them on his body.

Remember that old sitcom called Soap, with the guy who thought when he snapped his fingers he could make himself invisible? That's a skill I crave. I bad need to know how to do that where it, you know, actually works. I try it now, but he can still see me.

Okay, it's time for the bath fight now, and I'll have to finish this later after I mix up more rum slush.

*****************************

*** LLL stands for Lesbian Lawn Lady. I'll have to tell you that story later.

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